


Weighty Ghost

by lady_eliot_writes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fallen Castiel, Fluff, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Season/Series 08, Season/Series 08, spoilers for season 8 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:11:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_eliot_writes/pseuds/lady_eliot_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel hates the nightmares and hallucinations that come along with being human, but if they means that Dean will hold him through the night, maybe they're worth it. [Inspired by the song Weighty Ghost - Art included - Originally posted on Tumblr]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weighty Ghost

 

__

  
_I got out of bed today, swear to God i couldnt see my face._  
 _I got out of bed today, staring at a ghost._  
 _who forgot to float away, didnt have all that much to say._  
 _Wouldnt even tell me his own name and where’d my body go?_ _  
_

  
_oh have you seen my ghost? Seen my ghost, seen my ghost._

_Are you some kind of medicine man? Cut the demons out of my head._   
_you cant kill somethings thats already dead, so leave my soul alone._   
_i dont need no surgery. take those knives away from me._   
_just want to die in my own body. A ghost just needs a home._

**_\- Weighty Ghost by Wintersleep_ **

Castiel didn’t sleep much. He didn’t like the feeling of falling unconscious, being dragged under with the tide of sleep. He didn’t like the loss of control, the being vulnerable, he didn’t like the strange disorientation of waking up. But most of all he didn’t like the dreams. 

They weren’t nightmares, not really, not like the ones Dean had that woke him with a scream in his throat and the taste of brimstone in his mouth.They were always much quieter,softer, the focus not quite right. And they always left him with a void in his chest, feeling empty and profoundly sad. 

On the nights that Dean could sleep, Castiel wouldn’t dare wake him. Not because he thought he couldn’t, because Dean wouldn’t complain and would hold his arms wide, offering the safety, warmth and comfort of his embrace. But Castiel knew that the human had enough to worry about, and enough trouble sleeping and that it would be selfish of him to wake Dean unnecessarily. 

So when he woke in a cold sweat, ice coursing through his veins, eyes stinging with tears, he had no choice but to sit quietly and wait for his sleepy brain to wake fully and dispel its hallucinations. Sometimes, on the bad nights he could hardly tell the difference between his waking hallucinations and reality. Tonight was one of those nights and he reached out, thinking that maybe if he could get a hold of his trench coat, get a hand around his body when it was just a vessel, maybe, just maybe he would wake up and it would all be a dream. 

But his eyes cleared, his breath evened out, and the cool air in the bedroom brought him around to waking. He sat there for some time, hand still outstretched into the darkness, throat still tight with all that he had lost. Dean shifted on the bed behind him, sighing in his sleep and reaching for Castiel. When he found nothing but cold sheets, he started to stir into wakefulness. It was late, or more accurately early, and he blinked blearily up at Castiel’s back, arm stretched in front of him as if reaching, shaking with the effort. 

Dean hauled himself to sitting and slid forwards, pressing his chest securely against Castiel’s back. He slid his hand down along Cas’ arm, gently pressing down, until it laid relaxed against his side. Dean didn’t ask questions, familiar with the ex-angel’s strange nighttime behavior. He just shifted closer, wrapping Castiel in his arms, pressing one hand against Castiel’s chest with the reminder to breathe. He buried his face in Castiel’s shoulder, in the soft material of his favourite t-shirt from his teenage years and breathed the angel in and exhaled whispers of love and reassurance against Castiel’s shoulder. 

They sat like that until the sun came up and they heard Sam bustling in the kitchen, and then Dean pressed a kiss to Castiel’s neck with the words: 

“Angel or not, I’ll  _always_  need you Cas.”

Castiel pressed his eyelids tight together against the swell of emotion, feeling his throat get tight. 

“And more than that, I’ll always _want_  you around.”

Castiel smiled, a bit thin and watery and squeezed Dean’s arms that were still wrapped around him, suddenly feeling invincible. He realized, warmth settling in his chest, that is if this was what it meant to be human, maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t so bad after all. 


End file.
